Uncurling lifelines
by ZBBZL
Summary: "This is getting old already," the girl - the other girl, the fighter - says. "None of us knows who they are. We all woke up here with no memory of who we were." Dark Matter AU.


**Title** : _Uncurling lifelines_  
 **Setting** : Dark Matter AU

 **A/N** : I've watched the first two episodes of Dark Matter today and my mind immediately went to LET'S WRITE A THE 100/DARK MATTER AU. So here it is.

For those of you who haven't heard of Dark Matter, here is a non-spoilery pitch: Six people awaken from stasis to find they are on a ship in space but have no idea who they are.

I literally just wrote this in, like, two hours, so this might remain a one-shot if nobody's interested in this somewhat AU/crossover. Lemme know what you think, and check out the show!

Last thing: this first chapter is from Bellamy's POV.

Title from Florence + The Machine's "Various Storms & Saints."

* * *

The wail of sirens startles him awake, but it's the fog - is it mist? or maybe even steam? - that propels him forward and instinctively makes him push against the door to get out.

And then he starts running.

Fuses and wires blow on his way; _where_ _to_ , he has no idea, but he keeps running, shielding himself from the sparks and explosions with his arms over his head. The corridor leads to a room - an office, the operations room? - and another wire blows right above him. The sleeves of his thin black shirt do little to protect him from the heat, and the boiling wire scorches the fabric, burning its mark in his skin.

The slight pain is nothing compared to the punch that throws him off.

He didn't hear _her_ , but suddenly she's on him, _on top of him_ , and she's strong and sure and steady and he struggles to block her next punch, grabbing her fist in his hand as she aims at his face. She's smart _too_ , though, and she bumps him with her knee, and the sudden jolt is enough to make him let go.

The woman is on her feet in no time, and then she's standing at the console in the middle of the room, her fingers flying over the screen like she's playing the piano, like she _knows_ which button to press and which lever to pull. And she _does_ ; he's still struck, still on the floor, staring at her, when suddenly everything goes out and it's dark for all but one second before the lights are on again. _Restoring life support_ , a voice on speaker says.

"What the hell was that for?" he asks, massaging his jaw with one hand as he glares at the one she's offering him before reluctantly taking it.

She shrugs. Defiant and nonchalant. "You were on the way."

She doesn't get to be cocky for long before a flashlight blinds them both, and a man is aiming guns at them. "Who are you?" he barks, loud and nervous.

The woman looks at him, and they stare at each other for a second before opening their mouths at the same time. "I don't know," they both say. She turns to the other man, and she asks, "Who are _you_?"

The man looks startled, and he lowers his guns, eyes wide as he slowly shakes his head. "I - I have no fucking idea."

* * *

They find three other people as they make their way back to the main room - the one they woke up in.

A young man with brown hair that falls over his face and goggles on top of his head turns to them immediately, his gaze showing obvious distress and anguish. A blonde-haired woman looks at them warily, putting her hand on the other man's arm as if to hold him back.

And there's a young woman - just a _girl_ \- coming to in a nearby cubicle, slowly blinking long, dark lashes.

They all stand there as the man with the guns opens the cubicle, and holds her at gunpoint. "Who are you?" he demands, and his voice is rough with this edge of fear, and he's not a man, not really.

They're all just _kids_ , he finally notices. The boy with the messy hair can't be older than sixteen or seventeen; the girl with the blue eyes looks young and old at the same time, new and centennial, porcelain and steel. And the girl in the cubicle, in spite of the fierceness in her gaze, doesn't look any older.

She holds her head proud, but her reply comes as nothing but a tentative, low murmur. "I don't know," she echoes them unknowingly. "Who are _you_?"

"This is getting old already," the girl - the other girl, the fighter - says. "None of us knows who they are. We all woke up here with no memory of who we were."

"You knew how to reboot this thing," he says, and he sounds almost accusing and he doesn't know why because this girl probably saved their lives.

The blonde girl narrows her eyes, a frown creasing between her brows. "You did this?" she asks, and he almost laughs because she sounds just as suspicious as he did. The girl nods, her chin jutting out like she's daring anybody to say something about it, and the blonde just nods her head in return. "You're obviously an engineer or something. This is good. Your expertise could be invaluable."

He laughs this time, and the blonde glares at him like his very existence is personally offending her. "Oh come on, Princess," he chuckles, and the guy with the guns snorts. The young girl smirks.

"I'm no Princess," the blonde counters, and he laughs again as she crosses her arms over her chest. "You don't know anything about me," she adds angrily.

He knows he loves riling princesses like her up - he doesn't know _how_ he knows it, but he can feel it, how the tension radiating off of her is making him oddly happy. Not happy _happy_ , but good enough to momentarily forget that he doesn't know who he is or who any of the five people surrounding him are, or where they are, or what the fuck is going on.

The scared-looking boy is the one that speaks up in the end. "You - you don't know either," he tells the blonde girl, and he sounds _sorry_ of all things, like he didn't want to point it out but _had_ to. "That's the whole point, right? We don't know anything - about ourselves, or each other."

"And you do look like a princess, Princess," he says, and he could see it, the crown atop her golden hair. It'd go well with that superior halo she's got, like she's oozing with good intentions and morality and shit like that.

She looks at him like she could kill him, and maybe she could; the other girl did knock him down, after all. But then she just shakes her head to herself, before she turns to the boy with the guns. "Where did you find these?" she asks.

He shrugs. "Out in the corridor. Thought I might as well grab them."

"There are probably more. Maybe one for each of us. We should probably go look for -"

"Wow," he interrupts her, "Wait a minute. _We_ are _not_ doing anything. Who said you were in charge around here?"

He crosses his arms over his chest, too, but she doesn't back down, doesn't look intimidated. The guy with the guns smirks and it makes him look smug, the asshole - but it's always best to have the asshole on your side, so he smirks back at him. The other three are looking from him to her, waiting.

She unfolds her arms first; raises a hand to her face, pinches the bridge of her nose. "It's not about who's in charge. But we need to figure out if we have food and water and weapons. We need to work as a team."

The boy with messy hair agrees with a quick nod of his head, and the girl with dark hair shakes hers. "Don't you think it's more important to know _who_ we are and _where_ we are?" she says more than she asks. "We're _moving_ ," she observes. "We're definitely going somewhere."

"This is a spaceship," the engineer agrees, and when the blonde's eyes widen in surprise, she sighs. "Don't ask how I know it, I just do."

"Just like you _just_ knew how to reboot the system?" the guy with the guns says, and there's suspicion in his voice but now it sounds just right, and everybody seems to think so as they all turn to the girl, waiting for an explanation.

"Fuck you all," she snaps. "Why are we wasting so much time thinking about how we know things? We just _do_. We're all speaking the same language, and we all know how to be basic, functioning human beings. That's all we need to know. I'm for searching for the ship."

He wants to disagree just for the sake of disagreeing with the princess, but he knows it's the rational thing to do. "Okay," he agrees, and the blonde snorts. "What?"

She shrugs one shoulder. "You sound like you're doing us a favor, when _you_ couldn't handle yourself against her," she explains, tipping her chin at the girl. "I heard you two fight."

His blood boils in his veins, and he wants to show her that he can handle himself alright right there and then; but she looks so smug, like she's just waiting for him to snap, to act like the kid he's _not_ , that he just presses his lips together in a thin line. "Whatever. I'm not here to fight. I say we divide in three groups and go searching the ship, and we meet up in half an hour. I'll go with -"

He stops, and looks at the five people around him. The engineer can fight, and the guy with the guns can defend himself if needed; but the other three he knows nothing about, except that the princess's weapon of choice is probably trying to outsmart everybody else. The boy looks like he could faint any moment, and the other girl looks like she's ready for trouble and doesn't really care about it.

"I can't keep thinking of you as _the girl_ or _the boy_ ," he finally says, and it sounds so stupid but it's true, too, and even the princess nods. "Listen, I woke up first, so I'll be One, okay?" he suggests. "You could be Two," he turns to the engineer, "and you Three," to the guy with the guns. "And on."

Four is Princess, Five is Goggles, and Six is Fierce Girl. Six says it's stupid, and he picks her; he likes her already. Four teams up with Five, and Two with Three.

Another problem arises when they remember they only have _two_ guns, and that Three doesn't really know how to use one - none of them do. "Here, lemme show you," he says, and it comes easily to him, the weight of the gun natural and familiar in a way _nothing_ has been since he woke up, so he shows them how to carry it and aim.

Six is a natural, almost as good as he is, and Three is good too, once instructed. Two holds the gun almost reverently, studying it like a piece of art, testing its weight. Five is reluctant to touch it.

The Princess just glares at it, and then at him like everything is his fault. She's left-handed and her balance is slightly off, so he comes up behind her, fixing her stance, and he swears he feels electricity as his hand goes to her shoulder.

Like she's a wire and he made her blow. Fire and water - or fire and lava, more likely. Some shit like that.

"You'll probably be safer with me, Princess," he teases, and he feels her tense at his words, sees the way she furrows her brows. But the kick in the ribs he expects doesn't come.

Instead, she holds her head high, stubborn and regal, and her imaginary halo fucking _blinds_ him. She gestures at Goggles to join the others with a soft, reassuring smile, and then stands beside Fierce Girl. "Fine, then," she says, and this time she's the one sounding condescending when he thought _he_ was leading the dance. "Lead the way, One."

* * *

He thinks of shooting her at least three times, because she just can't stop bossing him around, talking about everything they need to do and figure out like he's too stupid to realize they're screwed if they don't.

Six just smirks the whole time.

For some reason, he's fond of her.

* * *

It's the Princess who figures out _why,_ of course. She looks at him, and then at Six, and he's on the verge of asking her to stop being a creep, staring at him like that, when she says it. "You two look like each other."

He frowns and looks at Six, and she does the same, and it's _stupid_ because they have no idea what they even _look like_ , and he would know it if he had a sister, right?

He would _feel_ it, wouldn't he?

He looks at Six and she looks at him, and his hand moves on its own, reaching out for her face, when they hear the screams.

It's Five.

* * *

 _to be continued (maybe?)  
_


End file.
